


Icarus

by Azurite9925



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Hellsing
Genre: Anderson is Enrico's adopted dad, Angst, Family Feels, Gen, Icarus AU, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 15:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azurite9925/pseuds/Azurite9925
Summary: A Mythology AU of the Hellsing verse, specifically of the story of Icarus.





	Icarus

**Icarus**

 

_As London burned, Alucard's souls ravaged the soldiers, friends, and foes, and Millennium loomed closer, Anderson couldn’t help but wonder if this is what hell looked like. A part of him reeled at the carnage, at the utter waste and meaningless violence, but a larger part, a part consumed by duty, suppressed such softness and continued to cut through the vampire soldiers, focused on finding Alucard._

_A loud crash to his right, however, broke his concentration. Turning to his side, his eyes widened when he saw Enrico’s helicopter and control box collapse around a herd of vampire soldiers. Anderson ran closer, but before he could save Enrico, a part of him called for him to wait, and he listened._

_Watching Enrico taunt the vampires and sit within the box, perfectly willing to wait for hell’s end before he would do a damn thing… as his soldiers laid their lives down for him for an unjust cause… as Millennium threatens to take over and continue their hieratic experiments… Anderson couldn’t help but clench his jaw. Even if his throat clenched and burned slightly, he wrapped a large hand around the hilt of a bayonet, and threw it with one aim in mind._

_Even though the screams of the damned echoed around him, Anderson could hear the shatter of glass and the gasp Enrico gave. He felt cold water drench him._

_“Anderson! Anderson!” Enrico screamed, his violet eyes wider and larger than any marble. “Father!” He called, his body being consumed by a legion of demonic power._

 

“Enrico!” Snapping out of his nightmare, Anderson shot up from his cot, his breath harsh and quick as his heart tried to escape his ribs. Looking beside him, he saw a small, silver haired, boy in a simple white tunic. His Enrico. His adopted son. He was safe.

Anderson lied back down. From the light coming through the eastern window, he could see that it was the middle of the night - moonlight dissipated into the large circular tower with ease, and nothing dared to make a sound. He tried to go back to sleep, but the dream worried him - for one, he had no idea how he dreamt of sacrificing an older version of his son to vampires. Anderson wasn’t a monster hunter. He wasn’t catholic. Hell, he wasn’t even a soldier - and yet that nightmare sent ominous chills down his spine.

 _Perhaps… it was an omen?_ He thought. Turning to his side, he looked at the blanket-covered lumps at the corner of the room. _I just finished the wings yesterday… we can escape this morning. I will keep him safe. This dream… was probably nothing._ Anderson sighed, and turned back onto his back and stared at the tower’s ceiling until his breathing evened and his mind wandered back into dreamland.

 

_King Alucard was a strong, wise, and prideful king. His wife, Queen Mina, however, was unable to bear sons, to the great sadness of King Alucard. While he adored his daughter, Seras, Alucard wanted a son to carry on his legacy. So, desperate and growing old, he prayed to Poseidon, who was willing to give Alucard a son if Alucard sacrificed an alabaster bull, a bull so beautiful that it inspired awe and admiration in all who looked at it. Although desperate for a child, Alucard was enamored with the bull, which got him much renown for its beauty and strength, and kept it for himself._

_Poseidon, angered by the slight, cursed Queen Mina to fall in love with the bull, so that she would bear the child of the bull, a son, yes, but half-bull, half-man. He was the minotaur. Alucard, upon seeing the child, was absolutely horrified and disgusted, so he contracted the great Athenian inventor, Alexander Anderson, to create a great labyrinth which the boy, the minotaur, couldn’t escape._

_Anderson, capable and aware of it, created such a labyrinth. King Alucard, however, wanted to eliminate all who knew of the boy, and trapped both Anderson and his son, Enrico, in a tower for all eternity._

_Anderson, however, could not accept this. Although he was becoming advanced in years, his boy had practically grown up in this tower. Guilty for robbing the boy of his childhood, Anderson began to plan and create the sketches of his greatest invention yet - a pair of wings._

 

“Father, father, wake up!” Enrico exuberantly called, startling the inventor awake.  Anderson blinked and then smiled - he would never get tired of Enrico’s sunshine. The boy was innocent of the cruelty of the world, and Anderson was both happy and sad because of it.

Seeing his father rise, Enrico leaned close, his voice a stage whisper, “Are we going to fly today, father?” His violet eyes were wide, his smile even wider. Anderson stood from his bed and stretched deliberately slowly. “Father?” Enrico prodded, growing impatient. Anderson hid a smile and continued to find his glasses and take the spare blanket off of the wings.

Anderson smiled when he saw his beautiful creations. “Yes, Enrico. Today, we do what no man has ever done before. We will fly.”

Enrico cheered and ran over to Anderson. He tried to reach for the wings, but Anderson held him back. Enrico pouted. “Lemmie have the wings. I want to fly, father.” He declared.

Anderson nodded. “I know, lad. But I need you to listen to me. You need to promise me two things if I’m going to let you touch these wings.”

Enrico eagerly leaned forward. “I promise, if I can fly, I promise.”

Anderson chuckled and shook his head. He grabbed Enrico’s shoulders and turned the lad to face him, so he could address the boy face to face. “Promise me that you won’t fly close to the sea, as the water will weigh down the feathers and cause you to drown.” Enrico nodded.

“Sure, makes sense, I promise.”

“One more thing.” Anderson said, watching the young man fidget impatiently. “Promise me you will not fly too close to the sun.”

 

_Enrico Maxwell may have been a sweet child, but he had always had an ambition larger than his body could contain. He was always proud of his father - Enrico loved him dearly and often was awed by the beautiful and useful things he made. Enrico, however, was determined to be greater than his father, to make his father proud, and to make his father respect him._

_He wanted to be known as Enrico Maxwell, not Anderson’s runt. And he was determined to make a name for himself, to go beyond the boundaries of his father. Whether this be through inventions or through conquest or through business or something - Enrico would do it. His father wouldn’t treat him like a child that day, and Enrico would finally have respect. He would be better than his father. One day, Enrico would be better than his father at everything, even flying._

_He promised._

 

A dread filled Anderson’s body as he watched his son fly higher and higher, fly more and more recklessly. “Enrico!” Anderson called.

The boy didn’t respond, only getting higher and higher.

“Enrico!” Anderson screamed, his eyes widening and his heart freezing as he watched Enrico’s wings begin to struggle, begin to sag, begin to _melt_.

The boy must have realized it - his violet eyes were so wide, Anderson could see the whites from where he flew. Anderson raced to intercept the boy, who was losing altitude as his feathers melted and molted and abandoned him. “Father!” Enrico screamed, flailing wildly.

“I’m coming!” Enrico called, but his heart was already in his stomach - he knew he wouldn’t make it. And although he raced as fast as he could towards his falling son, Anderson couldn’t catch him, couldn’t prevent Enrico’s ambition from getting the better of him.

Hours later, after Anderson touched down in free soil, he noticed the beauty around him. The skies were a brilliant spectrum, the plants greener than he remembered, the clouds more cumulous and dramatic than he could imagine. And yet, his soul was numb, his heart was broken, his spirit was drained. His son was gone. His Enrico, who flew too close to the sun.

 _Perhaps,_ he thought, _this is what hell looked like._


End file.
